Total Perspective Vortex
What really happened to Trillian? Theories abound, but you can see what she's really been up to on this blog. If you're looking for white mice, depressed robots, or the occasional Pan Galactic Gargleblaster you might be better served here:
http://www.bbc.co.uk/cult/hitchhikers/guide/.

Otherwise, hello, and welcome.
Mail Trillian here<





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Women, The Internet and You: Tips for Men Who Use Online Dating Sites
Part I, Your Profile and Email

Part II, Selecting a Potential Date

Part III, Your First Date!

Part IV, After the First Date. Now What?


"50 First Dates"






Don't just sit there angry and ranting, do something constructive.
In the words of Patti Smith (all hail Sister Patti): People have the power.
Contact your elected officials.

Don't be passive = get involved = make a difference.
Find Federal Officials
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or Search by State

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Contact The Media
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Words are cool.
The English language is complex, stupid, illogical, confounding, brilliant, beautiful, and fascinating.
Every now and then a word presents itself that typifies all the maddeningly gorgeousness of language. They're the words that give you pause for thought. "Who came up with that word? That's an interesting string of letters." Their beauty doesn't lie in their definition (although that can play a role). It's also not in their onomatopoeia, though that, too, can play a role. Their beauty is in the way their letters combine - the visual poetry of words - and/or the way they sound when spoken. We talk a lot about music we like to hear and art we like to see, so let's all hail the unsung heroes of communication, poetry and life: Words.
Here are some I like. (Not because of their definition.)

Quasar
Hyperbole
Amenable
Taciturn
Ennui
Prophetic
Tawdry
Hubris
Ethereal
Syzygy
Umbrageous
Twerp
Sluice
Omnipotent
Sanctuary
Malevolent
Maelstrom
Luddite
Subterfuge
Akimbo
Hoosegow
Dodecahedron
Visceral
Soupçon
Truculent
Vitriol
Mercurial
Kerfuffle
Sangfroid




























 







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Highlights from the Archives. Some favorite Trillian moments.

Void, Of Course: Eliminating Expectations and Emotions for a Better Way of Life

200i: iPodyssey

Macs Are from Venus, Windows is from Mars Can a relationship survive across platform barriers?
Jerking Off

Get A Job

Office Church Ladies: A Fieldguide

'Cause I'm a Blonde

True? Honestly? I think not.

A Good Day AND Funyuns?

The Easter Boy

Relationship in the Dumpster

Wedding Dress 4 Sale, Never Worn

Got Friends? Are You Sure? Take This Test

What About Class? Take This Test

A Long Time Ago, in a Galaxy Far Far Away, There Was a Really Bad Movie

May Your Alchemical Process be Complete. Rob Roy Recipe

Good Thing She's Not in a Good Mood Very Often (We Knew it Wouldn't Last)

What Do I Have to Do to Put You in this Car Today?

Of Mice and Me (Killer Cat Strikes in Local Woman's Apartment)

Trillian: The Musical (The Holiday Special)

LA Woman (I Love (Hate) LA)

It is my Cultureth
...and it would suit-eth me kindly to speak-eth in such mannered tongue

Slanglish

It's a Little Bit Me, It's a Little Bit You
Blogging a Legacy for Future Generations


Parents Visiting? Use Trillian's Mantra!

Ghosts of Christmas Past: Mod Hair Ken

Caught Blogging by Mom, Boss or Other

2003 Holiday Sho-Lo/Mullet Awards

Crullers, The Beer Store and Other Saintly Places

Come on Out of that Doghouse! It's a Sunshine Day!

"...I had no idea our CEO is actually Paula Abdul in disguise."

Lap Dance of the Cripple

Of Muppets and American Idols
"I said happier place, not crappier place!"

Finally Off Crutches, Trillian is Emancipated

Payless? Trillian? Shoe Confessions

Reality Wednesday: Extremely Local Pub

Reality Wednesday: Backstage Staging Zone (The Sweater Blog)

The Night Secret Agent Man Shot My Dad

To Dream the Impossible Dream: The Office Karaoke Party

Trillian Flies Economy Class (Prisoner, Cell Block H)

Trillian Visits the Village of the Damned, Takes Drugs, Becomes Delusional and Blogs Her Brains Out

Trillian's Parents are Powerless

Striptease for Spiders: A PETA Charity Event (People for the Ethical Treatment of Arachnids)

What's Up with Trillian and the Richard Branson Worship?

"Screw the French and their politics, give me their cheese!"


















 
Mail Trillian here





Trillian's Guide to the Galaxy gives 5 stars to these places in the Universe:
So much more than fun with fonts, this is a daily dose of visual poetry set against a backdrop of historical trivia. (C'mon, how can you not love a site that notes Wolfman Jack's birthday?!)

CellStories

Alliance for the Great Lakes


Hot, so cool, so cool we're hot.

Ig Nobel Awards

And you think YOU have the worst bridesmaid dress?

Coolest Jewelry in the Universe here (trust Trillian, she knows)

Red Tango

If your boss is an idiot, click here.

Evil Cat Full of Loathing.

Wildlife Works

Detroit Cobras


The Beachwood Reporter is better than not all, but most sex.



Hey! Why not check out some great art and illustration while you're here? Please? It won't hurt and it's free.

Shag

Kii Arens

Tim Biskup

Jeff Soto

Jotto




Get Fuzzy Now!
If you're not getting fuzzy, you should be. All hail Darby Conley. Yes, he's part of the Syndicate. But he's cool.





Who or what is HWNMNBS: (He Whose Name Must Not Be Spoken) Trillian's ex-fiancé. "Issues? What issues?"







Creative Commons License
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons License.


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Reading blogs at work? Click to escape to a suitable site!

Mamas, Don’t Let Your Babies Grow Up to be Smart Girls
(A Trillian de-composition, to the tune of Mamas, Don't Let Your Babies Grow Up to Be Cowboys)

Mama don’t let your babies grow up to be smart girls
Don’t let them do puzzles and read lots of books
Make ‘em be strippers and dancers and such
Mamas, don’t let your babies grow up to be smart girls
They’ll never find men and they’re always alone
Even though men claim they want brains

Smart girls ain’t easy to love and they’re above playing games
And they’d rather read a book than subvert themselves
Kafka, Beethoven and foreign movies
And each night alone with her cat
And they won’t understand her and she won’t die young
She’ll probably just wither away

Mama don’t let your babies grow up to be smart girls
Don’t let them do puzzles and read lots of books
Make ‘em be strippers and dancers and such
Mamas, don’t let your babies grow up to be smart girls
They’ll never find men and they’re always alone
Even though men claim they want brains

A smart girl loves creaky old libraries and lively debates
Exploring the world and art and witty reparteé
Men who don’t know her won’t like her and those who do
Sometimes won’t know how to take her
She’s rarely wrong but in desperation will play dumb
Because men hate that she’s always right

Mama don’t let your babies grow up to be smart girls
Don’t let them do puzzles and read lots of books
Make ‘em be strippers and dancers and such
Mamas, don’t let your babies grow up to be smart girls
They’ll never find men and they’re always alone
Even though men claim they want brains





























Life(?) of Trillian
Single/Zero

 
Wednesday, October 24, 2012  
And as we round the corner into the final stretch of End of Days, Honda insults women by offering a gender specific car...available in pink or colors that "match eye shadow."

 What, no rhinestones or Hello Kitty graphics?

 The mere name is proof that we're all doomed: "She's."

She is...what? ...a bimbo? ...easily swayed by gender marketing? ...lacking self respect, self esteem and self awareness? ...driving a stupid car? ...grammatically challenged?

I presume they wanted to convey the idea of "hers" without actually conjuring images of his and hers bath towels from the '50s. But in the process they created one of the most ambiguous car names to roll off an assembly line.

I'm struggling to imagine a conversation between me and another woman wherein one of us says, "Ohmygosh, I want one of those new She's so badly!" Or even (and I tried this), "Have you seen the new She's?"

That conversation went like this: "Hi Friend, how are you?"

"Okay. Looks like the transmission is gone on the Bug."

"Bummer. Are you going to fix it?"

"Nah. We're going to replace it, something small again, you know, easy on gas, something for errands around town."

"Have you seen the new She's?"

"What?"

"The Honda She's." 

silence

silence

Finally my friend probed, "Who's what?"

"Honda has a new car, it's basically a Fit. She's."

silence

silence

Friend probing again, "She's what?"

"A Fit. A She's basically a Fit but 'for women.'"

"Oh crap. Another Maytag Minivan?"

"No, it's a Fit. It's a compact."

"What's it called?"

"She's."

silence

silence

Friend probing, "She's what?"

"The name of the car is She's."

"Cheese?"

"Yeah, it's really cheesy."

"What's it called?"

"She's"

silence

silence

Friend probing, "...she's what, Trill?"

"The name of the car is She's."

"Huh?"

You get the idea. The conversation deteriorated quickly.


The last time I wanted a pink car was when I was six, and I didn't even want it for myself, I wanted it for my Malibu Barbie and her friends. And even where the Barbie gang was concerned, by the time I was 8 I wanted them to drive a silver or black car. Pink was passe, for little girls just entering the Barbieforce. I was more mature, then, and I wanted my Barbies' transportation to reflect that.

As for matching eye shadow (or lip gloss or blush or shoes...), while I have seen some beguiling shades of makeup that might translate well onto a car, I'm pretty sure I don't want my car to match my makeup or vice-versa. The resulting camouflage situation is too weird. "Watch how my eyelids seem to disappear when I stand next to my car!"

I'm reasonably certain this is an ironic coincidence (I want to believe.): The Fit logo is reminiscent of the classic FDS logo. (Guys who don't know, FDS is a feminine deodorant spray. Yes. It's a tampon-sized aerosol specifically manufactured for, and marketed to, women who want to deodorize their vulvas. Not to be confused with douches, FDS is sprayed on topically, not blasted internally.) I've never understood why a woman would need or want to use FDS. Regular showering and basic hygiene has always kept things on the up and up down there for me, even on those days when I'm not-so-fresh. I keep thinking I'll turn some corner in my womanhood where I'll understand the purpose and need for FDS. I keep worrying that one day I'll notice an odor emanating from my lady region and wonder, "What the...? I just took a shower! Uh-oh, better get a vile of FDS!" And it's not a subject us gals discuss so I have no idea when to expect this rite of passage. Or at least the gals I know don't discuss it, nor would I ask them. I presume there are women out there who buy FDS because they keep making it and stores continue to stock it, but I'll never know if I know a woman who needs/buys it. And that's just as it should be. I truly do not want to know what's going on odor-wise in my friends' vulvas. The similarity between the FDS logo design and color scheme and the Fit logo is fitting because the She's seems as mysteriously superfluous as FDS. I don't know a woman who would drive one, and even if one of my friends had one they'd never admit it. Like FDS, hey'd hide it and never discuss it, keep it a dirty little secret. 

And I'm not bothered just for the "this sets women back at least 60 years" aspect. While I appreciate anything that blocks UV rays and offers air conditioning, since when are these female-specific concerns? I've never known a guy who was all, "Bring on the UV rays, woohoo! Magnify the glare through untreated glass! Let's set up a napalm sunrise environment in the driver's seat and get rolling down the highway! And air conditioning? It's for women and whimps! I don't want air conditioning in my car!" Men may not be as cosmetically concerned about UV rays, but most people, regardless of their gender, are aware of and concerned about melanoma. The special extra UV blocking glass is only for women? Guys, I'd be crying foul if I were you. This is discrimination. Ditto the Plasmacluster air conditioning. (Is it just me, or does Plasmacluster sound like something you don't want to hear your doctor say to you. "I'm sorry to tell you this, your test results show there's a plasmacluster blocking oxygen from your left lung. You have two weeks to live and then the plasmacluster will spread and suffocate you." Or maybe something from a bad sci-fi made-for-television movie from the '70s. "Dirk, there's a plasmaluster headed straight for the Andromeda Nebula." "No! Not Andromeda! Karen's ship is docked there! We must stop the plasmacluster before it hits Karen's ship!")

I don't mind the "strong enough for a man, but made for a woman" concept in deodorant, but the implication that us chicks need or want a small, cute, delicate car is insulting.

I know, I know, there are lots of women who will love this car. Women who will use rhinestone encrusted Hello Kitty keychains to hold the keys to their She's. Women who talk in syrupy baby-talk voices. Women whose career aspirations don't extend beyond moving up from receptionist to shift manager at the tanning salon. Women who want their car to match their eye shadow. Women who don't understand that She's a contraction of she is. Women who don't know what a contraction is. And you know, fine, whatever, rock on, sisters, enjoy your car.

The mere concept of a car "for women" insults me, but I am not the female driving audience Honda is trying to reach. So my feelings about the car and its concept are moot.

But.

Honda, can you please give it a different name?

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1:18 AM

 
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